Page 142 of Meet Me In The Dark
I clench my teeth and force a smile until the waiter walks away.
“So,” he begins, “how’s the Blackwood & Calloway project progressing?”
“Ahead of schedule.”
“And Blackwood himself? He has quite the reputation, doesn’t he?”
“Professional. Demanding.” I shrug, feigningboredom. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
“I’m surprised he lets you work so independently. Men like him are usually more... possessive.”
“Men like him?” I echo, holding his gaze. “You mean successful men? Confident men?”
He pauses, sensing my challenge. “I suppose.”
“I work with a lot of successful, confident men. They’ve learned not to underestimate me.”
“Of course,” he counters before taking a long breath. “Let me get straight to the point, Celeste.”
“Please.”
“I believe your talents are wasted with Sinclair. Imagine what you could achieve with my resources. Global projects, endless possibilities.”
I tilt my head, studying him. “I’ve thought about your offer, Mr. Kingsley.”
“Tom,” he corrects.
“I’ve thought about your offer, Tom,” I repeat pointedly, “and while I appreciate it, I’m happy with my job.”
“You’re not even considering it?”
“I did consider it, and the answer is no.”
He hums and stews in a long moment of silence.
I don’t notice it at first.
It’s just a prickle, a whisper beneath my skin. That eerie, inexplicable hum of awareness that makes the tiny hairs on your arms rise even though nothing’s touched you.
I shift in my seat, glancing over my shoulder toward the entrance.
Nothing.
I’m on edge tonight. Maybe it’s because I don’t like where this is going.
The silence is only broken when the waiter sets ourdrinks on the table before he gives a polite smile and leaves.
“Celeste, you’re making a mistake. Blackwood might seem impressive now, but men like him burn bright and fast. It’s not long before everyone around them gets scorched.”
“Sounds personal,” I reply coolly, lifting my water glass.
“It’s a warning. One you should heed.”
“I don’t scare easily.”
“I noticed.” His expression shifts, frustration edging toward something darker. “It’s a shame. You’re exactly my type.”
I set my glass down because if I don’t, I’ll fling it at him. “I’m not interested in being anyone’s type.”
